


To Know

by whitneychriss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, POV Castiel, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, set somewhere in season 9, talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitneychriss/pseuds/whitneychriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knew Dean. Technically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Know

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in history class. Go easy on me.

Castiel knew Dean. Technically. He knew all the colors in his eyes. He knew the exact map of freckles across his nose and back. He could name the colors in his hair. He new the angle of the bow of Dean's legs. But, most of all, Castiel knew Dean Winchester's soul.

 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 

Of all the things Castiel did know, there were those that he longed to. He wondered about Dean's taste. How much did it relate to the smell he had become so familiar with? What did his skin feel like? How bright did his soul shine when he tumbled over that peak of climax? How far did the flush go down his skin on the rare occasions he found himself to be embarrassed? What would his tongue feel like sliding against Castiel's own? How hot would his need burn under his skin?

 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 

To say that Castiel was overwhelmed when he came to know these things would be an understatement. With Dean laid out beneath him he had all the answers. Dean's skin tasted like soap, sweat, and a spice that was all him. He tasted salty and sweet when he spilled down Castiel's throat. Sometimes he could detect that spice over all other scents. His hands were rough and calloused. His lips soft and full. The rest of him warm and inviting. His soul could have been overwhelming had Castiel not been prepared. His flush ended around his abdomen most of the time. Castiel was somewhat proud that one utterance of the word _Beautiful_ graced him with that particular answer. His tongue was warm and slick, sinful and skilled. His need was almost palpable. The tension created burned hotter than any fire.

 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

 

It wasn't until he voiced his finds that he learned Dean had answered questions of his own.

 

"What do I taste like, Dean?"

"Rain." Dean answered without hesitation.

"What do I look like?"

"Strong. Powerful. Lean. Soft. Right." Dean replied.

"How does one look right, Dean?"

"It's just you, Cas. You look right because you're you."

 

Castiel pondered this for a stretch of minutes that could have been hours before he spoke again.

 

"You feel like home." He decided.

 

Dean looked up from the book he'd been only half concentrating on.

 

"What do I feel like, Dean?"

"Love, Cas. You feel like love."


End file.
